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In his first venture into free agency, Ozzie Smith had two options: stay with the Cardinals or go with the Astros.

Curious to learn what he would get on the open market, Smith became a free agent for the first time on Nov. 2, 1992.

Over the next month, the shortstop met with the Astros and Royals, heightening concerns among Cardinals fans about his future with the club.

Though the Astros offered him the contract he wanted, Smith secured his legacy as a Cardinal by remaining with St. Louis and finishing his Hall of Fame playing career there.

Test market

Acquired from the Padres after the 1981 season, Smith was a central figure in the Cardinals’ rise to prominence in the 1980s. He helped them to three National League pennants (1982, 1985 and 1987) and a World Series championship (1982), hit an iconic home run to win Game 5 of the 1985 NL Championship Series and earned a Gold Glove Award every year during that decade.

In 1992, Smith still was an elite player. He batted .295 for the Cardinals that season and won the last of his 13 Gold Glove honors.

With his 38th birthday approaching in December 1992, Smith was looking for one last lucrative contract. He decided becoming a free agent gave him his best leverage.

“Ozzie is going to talk to anybody and everybody that wants to talk to him, but we’re still talking to the Cardinals,” Debbie Ehlmann, Smith’s agent, said to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

(At the time, Ehlmann was one of two women certified as an agent by the Major League Baseball Players Association.)

Smith wanted a two-year contract at a guaranteed salary. The Cardinals offered him a one-year deal with a club option for a second year, according to columnist Bernie Miklasz.

Aggressive Astros

One of the first clubs to contact Smith was the Astros, who were seeking an upgrade at shortstop after Andujar Cedeno batted .173 in 1992.

The Astros offered Smith a two-year contract with a guaranteed salary totaling $5.5 million.

Saying Smith would bring a “winning presence,” Astros general manager Bill Wood told the Houston Chronicle, “He’s not making any compromises with Father Time. He didn’t give anything away on the field last year. From what we saw, he played the game like a young man. If you say you’re going to go out and get a shortstop, he’d be the place to start.”

With concern growing that Smith might depart St. Louis, longtime journalist Bob Broeg wrote in the Post-Dispatch, “If the Cardinals let Ozzie Smith get away, it will be the worst case of materialistic injustice in the colorful century of the ball club.”

Creative offer

Feeling the pressure of public criticism, the Cardinals made Smith a counteroffer:

_ $3 million guaranteed contract in 1993.

_ $3 million for each year he plays after 1993, providing he gets 400 plate appearances in the preceding season and is declared physically fit by an independent doctor.

_ $200,000 a year for six years (a $1.2 million total) after his playing career to do public relations work for the Cardinals.

Calling the Cardinals’ proposal “a generous, creative offer,” Miklasz wrote, “Stan Musial, Bob Gibson and Lou Brock never received a sweetheart deal like this. Ozzie says he loves his fans here. Good. He has the chance to stay and seal the valentine, show that he’s more than a mercenary athlete.”

In the meantime, the Royals entered the picture. Smith met with them in Kansas City. Though no formal offer was made, the Royals discussed a two-year deal with a guaranteed salary. “They want Ozzie,” Ehlmann said.

Royals general manager Herk Robinson said of Smith, “If he decides he wants to play in Kansas City, we will try to accommodate.”

Who wants you?

On Dec. 1, the intrigue intensified when the Astros increased their offer to Smith with a guaranteed $6 million over two years.

Smith wouldn’t commit.

Three days later, after the Astros had invested in free-agent pitchers Doug Drabek and Greg Swindell, they withdrew their offer to Smith.

Meanwhile, the Royals still hadn’t submitted an offer.

With his negotiating leverage evaporating, Smith dropped his demand for a guaranteed salary in the second year and accepted the Cardinals’ offer.

In addition to the guaranteed $3 million in 1993 and the $1.2 million for public relations work after retirement, the Cardinals agreed to word the deal so that Smith would receive $3 million for each year he played after 1993, providing he got 400 plate appearances “or played in 95 games” in the preceding season and was ruled physically fit by an independent doctor.

Smith became the first Cardinals player to make $3 million a year.

“This is really where I belonged,” Smith said of St. Louis. “It’s where I should finish my career.”

Smith played four more years for the Cardinals before retiring after the 1996 season. He neither achieved 400 plate appearances nor played in 95 games in 1995 and 1996.

Previously: Ozzie Smith had bitter retirement announcement

Previously: Ozzie Smith had a classy Cardinals farewell

Four weeks after experiencing one of his most satisfying feats _ a 1942 World Series title for a Cardinals team composed primarily of players developed within the minor-league system he created _ Branch Rickey left the organization.

Though he had played a major role in the Cardinals becoming one of baseball’s best franchises, Rickey’s relationship with club owner and president Sam Breadon had deteriorated beyond repair.

On Oct. 29, 1942, Rickey, the Cardinals’ vice president and general manager, resigned and signed a five-year contract to become president and general manager of the Dodgers.

He left the Cardinals in good shape.

Benefitting from the farm system, the Cardinals had a pipeline of talent despite departures of players into military service during World War II. In their first four seasons after Rickey left, the Cardinals won three National League pennants (1943, 1944 and 1946) and two World Series titles (1944 and 1946).

Rickey, meanwhile, upgraded the Dodgers’ farm system _ his moves positioned Brooklyn to win six NL pennants in a 10-year stretch (1947-56) while the Cardinals had none in that period _ and prepared to make his most important contribution: integrating the major leagues by bringing Jackie Robinson to the Dodgers in 1947.

Golden magic

In 1917, Breadon was part of a group of St. Louis investors who bought the Cardinals from Helene Britton. The new owners lured Rickey from the American League Browns and put him in charge of baseball operations. Breadon became the Cardinals’ principal owner in 1920.

“Finding it impossible to compete in the open market for players, Rickey conceived the idea of finding prospects when they were young and planting them on minor-league clubs, or farms,” wrote J. Roy Stockton of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “Rival baseball operators laughed at the idea, but it worked with golden magic.”

From 1926-42, the partnership of Breadon and Rickey produced six NL pennants and four World Series titles.

For most of that time, Breadon and Rickey were an odd couple who worked well together.

“It was a strange partnership always, with each having a great respect for the ability of the other while their personalities, habits and views of extracurricular things were so diametrically opposed that there never was any strong bond of friendship between the partners,” Stockton wrote.

Ice formations

The relationship began to change in 1939 when the Cardinals got embroiled in a scandal.

Baseball commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis, who disliked Rickey, launched an investigation into the farm system and determined the Cardinals had violated rules by colluding to control minor-league franchises and their players.

Embarrassed, Breadon concluded Rickey had betrayed his trust.

According to Murray Polner, author of “Branch Rickey: A Biography,” Breadon “insisted his reputation had been stained, his honesty questioned” because of Rickey’s actions.

“To have the stigma broadcast by Landis, whom he loathed, was simply too much for Breadon to bear,” Polner wrote.

Breadon also was miffed with Rickey’s role in a managerial turnover. Frankie Frisch, a Breadon favorite, feuded with Rickey. Fed up, Rickey threatened to join the Cubs unless the Cardinals changed managers. In September 1938, Breadon reluctantly fired Frisch. Rickey hired a friend, Ray Blades, to replace Frisch. When the Cardinals started poorly in 1940, Breadon fired Blades without consulting Rickey.

“Persons close to the club had noticed a coolness developing between president and general manager in recent years,” Stockton wrote.

Time to go

In spring 1941, the relationship reached a breaking point. Breadon informed Rickey he wouldn’t renew his contract at the present terms when the pact expired in December 1942. Rickey was getting a yearly salary of $50,000 and a percentage of the club profits.

(The Post-Dispatch estimated Rickey received more than $1 million in salary and bonuses during his time with the Cardinals.)

Looking ahead to when his contract would expire at the end of 1942, Rickey began to plot an exit.

The 1942 Cardinals won 106 games during the regular season and edged the Dodgers, who won 104, for the pennant. When the Cardinals won four of five against the Yankees to earn the World Series crown, Rickey said it was the happiest moment of his life “because it was a victory for his boys, young men who, with only a few exceptions, were products of the now far-flung chain store system Branch had fathered and developed,” the Post-Dispatch reported.

The Dodgers, seeking a team president to replace Larry MacPhail, who was commissioned into the Army as a lieutenant colonel, contacted Rickey, 60, after the World Series. Rickey’s son was head of the Dodgers’ farm system.

Rickey also was approached by the Browns, who made a surprisingly lucrative offer. “Under its terms, Rickey might have made stock arrangements that would have netted him as much as $100,000 in little more than a year,” The Sporting News reported.

Said Browns owner Donald Barnes: “We went the limit trying to keep Mr. Rickey in St. Louis … We probably went higher in our offer than present conditions would justify. We wanted him that badly.”

Tempted to remain in St. Louis, Rickey came “very, very close” to signing with the Browns, The Sporting News wrote.

However, because the Cardinals and Browns had their offices at Sportsman’s Park and played their games there, Rickey and Breadon would have had to work in close proximity to one another. “Sam and Branch could no longer live in the same ballpark,” The Sporting News concluded.

Rickey notified Breadon in a telegram that he was joining the Dodgers.

Saying he wished Rickey “all the luck in the world,” Breadon told the Post-Dispatch, “We hardly ever had a hard word … If we failed to agree on a policy, we would iron it out. We never had any hard feelings. There are none now.”

Because of federal wartime restrictions on income, Rickey agreed to a yearly salary with the Dodgers of $35,000, but he negotiated a bonus plan in which he “stands a good chance of drawing close to a quarter of a million dollars” over the length of the contract, The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported.

Breadon decided to divide Rickey’s duties among various Cardinals personnel rather than hire a replacement.

 

 

(Updated March 5, 2022)

Though given an offer he called the best he’d ever received, Gene Mauch rejected a chance to manage the Cardinals.

In August 1980, when Whitey Herzog was promoted from manager to general manager of the Cardinals, Mauch was Herzog’s choice to replace him.

If Mauch had accepted the offer, he might have earned the prize that eluded him.

Mauch, who would manage for 26 years in the major leagues, never led a team to a league pennant or World Series championship. Two years after Mauch turned down the Cardinals, Herzog managed the team to the 1982 National League title and World Series crown.

Whether the Cardinals would have achieved the same with Mauch as their manager is conjecture, but it is a fact Herzog wanted to give him the opportunity.

Wanted: Type A

In June 1980, with the Cardinals’ record at 18-33, manager Ken Boyer was fired and replaced by Herzog. Two months later, Cardinals general manager John Claiborne was fired and replaced by Herzog. Red Schoendienst, Cardinals coach and former manager, was named interim manager for the rest of the season.

Cardinals owner Gussie Busch elevated Herzog to the general manager role because he believed a roster overhaul was needed to make the club a contender and he wanted Herzog to oversee the rebuilding job.

One of Herzog’s first tasks was to find a manager.

“The players are too passive … I want the players to be more aggressive,” Herzog said to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “One quality I’ll be looking for in a manager is someone who is aggressive himself.”

The first candidate Herzog contacted was Mauch. “I do know he’s a fine manager _ I managed against him _ and he has a great baseball mind,” Herzog said.

Mauch, 54, was available because he had resigned as Twins manager in August 1980.

After Mauch joined the Twins in 1976, the organization severed ties with several of their best players through trades (Rod Carew, Bert Blyleven) or free agency (Larry Hisle, Bill Campbell). Mauch led the Twins to winning records in three of his first four seasons, but they had a 54-71 mark in 1980 when he chose to leave rather than return for the final year on his contract.

“I’ve had some bad teams _ teams that were bad enough to gag a maggot _ but even those teams were able to steal some games by executing,” Mauch told The Sporting News. “This season, we have lost because of a failure to execute.”

Mauch, an infielder, played nine seasons in the big leagues, including seven games with the 1952 Cardinals.

At 34, he was named manager of the Phillies in 1960. Four years later, Mauch had the Phillies in first place _ a 6.5-game lead with 12 to play _ but the team lost 10 in a row and finished a game behind the champion Cardinals.

Mauch managed the Phillies for nine years (1960-68), Expos for seven (1969-75) and Twins for five (1976-80).

He and Herzog competed in the same division, the American League West, from 1976-79 when Herzog managed the Royals.

Change of plans

Asked by Rick Hummel of the Post-Dispatch in September 1980 whether he was interested in becoming Cardinals manager, Mauch replied, “Let me say this: If I take another managing job, it will have to be with a team which has a chance to win. I think the Cardinals have a chance to win.”

Hummel concluded, “Mauch … would be Herzog’s type of manager. The Cardinals are in need of a demanding, tough-guy sort of leader.”

By early October, just before the 1980 regular season ended, Herzog’s top two choices for the managerial job became clear:  Mauch and Dick Williams.

Williams, manager of the Expos, was under contract to them for 1981, but there was published speculation the club could be considering a change. Williams was a St. Louis native and, like Mauch, an experienced manager with a no-nonsense approach. He had managed the 1967 Red Sox to a pennant and he had led the Athletics to World Series championships in 1972 and 1973.

When it became evident Williams would stay with the Expos, Herzog offered the job to Mauch.

“It is no secret that Mauch was Herzog’s first choice for the job,” Hummel wrote in the Post-Dispatch.

Unsure he was ready to manage again, Mauch declined.

Recalled Herzog: “He said, ‘I don’t want you to hold off on me. It’s probably the best offer I’ve ever had, but I just don’t feel like I want to do it.’ ”

Herzog also confirmed to Larry Harnly of The State Journal-Register of Springfield, Ill., that Mauch had turned down the Cardinals’ offer.

With Mauch and Williams unavailable, Herzog decided to hire himself.

On Oct. 24, 1980, the Cardinals announced Herzog would have the dual role of general manager and manager. Herzog hired his friend, Joe McDonald, former general manager of the Mets, to be executive assistant/baseball and take care of the administrative and business duties while Herzog focused on baseball matters.

(Herzog’s first choice for the assistant’s role had been Bing Devine, who had served two stints as Cardinals general manager, but Lou Susman, attorney for club owner Gussie Busch, opposed the move and blocked it, according to Hummel in the Post-Dispatch.)

Four months later, in February 1981, Mauch was named director of player personnel for the Angels.

“I had offers to manage four clubs this winter,” Mauch said. “If I wanted to manage, I’d be in one of those places. Right now, I don’t want to manage.”

According to Dave Anderson of the New York Times, Mauch turned down offers to manage the Padres, Giants and Mariners, in addition to the Cardinals.

In May 1981, the Angels fired manager Jim Fregosi _ and replaced him with Mauch.

Though the Cardinals were cash poor and never had won a National League pennant, their outlook was hopeful in 1917 because the top two leaders of their baseball operations, Branch Rickey and Miller Huggins, were among the best in the business.

Rickey, the Cardinals’ president, and Huggins, their manager, were smart, innovative and effective. Both would build careers that would earn them election to the Baseball Hall of Fame.

They worked together, however, for just one season in St. Louis.

Rickey and the Cardinals wanted Huggins to stay. Rickey, however, was the decision-maker on all key baseball matters _ a role Huggins wanted. Huggins also felt he’d been misled when denied a chance to become part of the ownership group.

On Oct. 25, 1917, Huggins left the Cardinals to become manager of the Yankees. With a lineup anchored by Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, Huggins managed the Yankees to six American League pennants and three World Series titles.

Rickey went on to build the first minor-league system, establishing a steady supply of affordable talent that transformed the Cardinals from a lackluster franchise into an elite one.

Front-office intrigue

Huggins, who, like Rickey, earned a law degree, played in the major leagues as a second baseman for the Reds (1904-09) and Cardinals (1910-16).

A favorite of team owner Helene Britton, Huggins became player-manager in 1913. In that role, Huggins made all the important baseball decisions, including acquisition of players. His friend and most trusted scout, St. Louis native Bob Connery, discovered the future Hall of Famer, Rogers Hornsby, and brought him to the Cardinals.

After the 1916 season, Britton decided to sell and she promised Huggins he would have first chance to buy the franchise. Huggins was friends with the owners of the Fleischmann’s Yeast company of Cincinnati and they planned to bankroll his bid to purchase the Cardinals.

When Britton’s attorney, James C. Jones, learned of his client’s intentions, he organized a St. Louis group of investors, who included auto dealer Sam Breadon, and convinced her to sell the Cardinals to them. Jones was named chairman of the club. Needing someone to run the baseball side of the business, the group hired Rickey from the crosstown American League Browns and named him president.

As the St. Louis Post-Dispatch noted, the new management structure “placed over (Huggins) a man who did all the club’s business of finding and hiring players and left Huggins nothing to do but to direct them. Furthermore, with Rickey as president, getting a $15,000 salary, or twice the sum Huggins received, friction was inevitable.”

Though stung by the sale of the team and by the emergence of Rickey as baseball boss, Huggins managed the Cardinals to an 82-70 record and third-place finish in 1917. Those were the most wins in a season for the franchise since 1899 and just the second time the club finished as high as third place in the National League.

“The fact that he had suffered a bitter disappointment in not being given a chance to buy the club himself _ a chance promised him by Mrs. Britton _ did not interfere with his services” to the 1917 Cardinals, the Post-Dispatch proclaimed.

Bidding game

After the 1917 season, Rickey offered Huggins a salary of $10,000, plus 10 percent of all club profits over $25,000, to remain Cardinals manager in 1918, the Post-Dispatch reported

Huggins. who made a counter offer, told the St. Louis Star-Times that Rickey “failed to meet my terms.”

Rickey said Huggins “seemed to agree with me that the percentage above $25,000 was fair in these days of inflated baseball salaries, but managers, like players, are seeking more money every day. I felt that in justice to my board of directors that I could offer Huggins no greater percentage of the club’s profits.”

Huggins accepted a Yankees offer of a two-year contract at $12,000 per year. According to a report in the Post-Dispatch, the Yankees also agreed to pay Huggins “a small percentage of the profits of the club.”

Noting that Huggins “has put up with a world of inconveniences and misfits” as Cardinals manager, the Star-Times opined, “Huggins has made a great leader for the Cardinals and has been very much unappreciated … There is no doubt that Huggins is one of the smartest fish in baseball. The wisest men on the diamond will tell you that.”

Right move

Huggins replaced Bill Donovan, who managed the Yankees to a 71-82 record in 1917. The Yankees had losing records in two of Donovan’s three seasons.

“I had no quarrel with the St. Louis club and I’m leaving the Cardinals under the most friendly circumstances and with the best of wishes for their success,” Huggins said. “The club made me an offer to remain, but I left because I felt that I could do better (in New York).”

Rickey added, “I can only say that my best wishes go with Huggins and that he is a great field general _ one of the best I have ever known. We hold no grievance against him.”

The Sporting News concluded, “Rickey understood that it was not entirely a money proposition with Huggins. The opportunity to lead a club in New York, where he would be in supreme charge of the makeup and handling of his team, was bound to appeal to any ambitious baseball man.”

Huggins managed the Yankees for 12 years (1918-29) and had a 1,067-719 mark. Including his Cardinals years, Huggins had 1,413 career wins.

Rickey replaced Huggins with a manager from the minor-league Indianapolis Indians, Jack Hendricks, and it was a disaster. The Cardinals finished 51-78 in 1918. Rickey took over as manager the following year.

Previously: How Branch Rickey escaped Browns, joined Cardinals

(Updated Nov. 27, 2018)

During a season in which the Cardinals won a National League pennant and World Series championship, Don Lock found the key to success against their formidable pitching.

In 1967, Lock, in his first National League season as a center fielder for the Phillies, batted .382 (13-for-34) with 12 RBI in 11 games against the Cardinals.

A right-handed batter, Lock was especially effective against Cardinals left-handers. He hit four home runs against them in 1967.

Hit or miss

As a teen in Kansas, Lock was a standout athlete in multiple sports. “The Cardinals were interested in signing Lock when he was playing American Legion baseball back home in Kingman, Kan.,” the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported.

Instead, Lock attended Wichita State on a basketball scholarship and played for coach Ralph Miller, who would be enshrined in the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame. Lock earned varsity letters in baseball, basketball and track.

By then, other big-league organizations, including the Yankees, Red Sox, Athletics and Dodgers, had joined the Cardinals in pursuit of Lock. According to his obituary, Lock accepted a $22,500 bonus to sign with the Yankees in 1958.

The Yankees’ deal “was $2,500 more than the next best, the one Boston offered. So I took it,” Lock told the Post-Dispatch. “I was just a kid out of college who had a wife and a kid and car payments to meet. I needed money.”

Lock played in the Yankees’ minor league system from 1958-62. He had 35 home runs in 1960 for the Class A Binghamton (N.Y.) Triplets and 29 home runs in 1961 for the Class AAA Richmond Virginians. Though he had established himself as a power prospect, Lock couldn’t find a spot on a Yankees roster filled with sluggers such as Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris and Bill Skowron.

The Cardinals continued to look for ways to acquire Lock. In December 1961, Cardinals general manager Bing Devine offered to trade first baseman Joe Cunningham to the Yankees for outfielder Tom Tresh, catcher Jesse Gonder and Lock, The Sporting News reported.

“We were interested in Cunningham, but not to the point of giving up a front-line player (Tresh) for him,” Yankees manager Ralph Houk said.

Unable to make a deal with the Yankees, the Cardinals traded Cunningham to the White Sox for outfielder Minnie Minoso.

In July 1962, the Yankees traded Lock to the Senators. He became one of the American League’s premier power hitters, ranking among the top 10 in home runs in 1963 (27) and 1964 (28), but he also had more strikeouts than hits each year he played for Washington. He was second in the league in strikeouts in both 1963 (151) and 1964 (137).

Second chance

After the 1966 season, the Senators dealt Lock to the Phillies for pitcher Darold Knowles and cash. “Lock came to the Phillies with a reputation as one of baseball’s most inconsistent hitters,” wrote Bill Conlin of the Philadelphia Daily News. “His pattern was a short rash of homers followed by a long rash of strikeouts.”

Phillies manager Gene Mauch decided to utilize Lock and Johnny Briggs in a center field platoon.

On May 26, 1967, at Philadelphia, Lock hit a home run that beat the Cardinals.

In the eighth inning, with the score tied at 4-4, the Phillies had runners on second and third, two outs, with Lock at the plate against left-handed reliever Joe Hoerner. Cookie Rojas was on deck.

“The strategy with the score tied and the winning run on base would normally be to intentionally walk Lock and pitch to Rojas,” Conlin wrote.

Cardinals manager Red Schoendienst thought otherwise. He remembered that 10 days earlier, at St. Louis, Rojas had hit a home run against the Cardinals and Hoerner had struck out Lock.

Schoendienst wanted Hoerner to pitch to Lock rather than to Rojas.

If not for a misplay, it would have been the right decision.

Hoerner got Lock to hit a pop fly into foul territory, just beyond first base. Second baseman Phil Gagliano, who had the best angle for a catch, called off first baseman Orlando Cepeda, but misjudged the ball and it fell to the ground.

Given another chance, Lock swung at a low fastball and sent a laser over the left-field wall. “The ball was still rising when it ticked the front slope of the roof and bounced off a sign,” Conlin wrote.

Said Lock: “That’s as good as I can hit a ball, I guess.”

The three-run home run was the difference in a 7-4 Phillies victory. Boxscore

Special day

A month later, on June 25, 1967, the Phillies were in St. Louis for a doubleheader against the Cardinals.

Lock had what he called his best day in the major leagues. He produced six hits in eight at-bats and drove in six runs, leading the Phillies to a sweep.

Lock was 4-for-5 with three RBI in the first game and 2-for-3 with three RBI in the second game.

In the opener, Lock had a two-run home run and two singles in three at-bats against the Cardinals’ starter, left-hander Larry Jaster, helping the Phillies to a 6-4 victory. Boxscore

(A month earlier, Lock also was 3-for-3 _ two doubles and a single _ against Jaster. So, in two games against Jaster, Lock was 6-for-6.)

In the doubleheader nightcap, Lock hit a two-run home run against left-hander Al Jackson, propelling the Phillies to a 10-4 triumph. Boxscore

“I’ve shortened my stroke a little,” Lock said. “I’m not taking the bat back as far and I’m choking up about an inch-and-a-half.”

Lock also hit two home runs _ one in 1967 and the other in 1968 _ against Cardinals left-hander Steve Carlton.

Lock finished the 1967 season with 14 home runs in 112 games.

He was with the Phillies again in 1968 and ended his big-league career playing for both the Phillies and Red Sox in 1969.

Lock’s overall batting mark in eight major-league seasons is .238. His career batting average versus the Cardinals is .359 (23-for-64) with five home runs and 17 RBI in 22 games.

Previously: Epic showdowns: Jim Bunning vs. Bob Gibson

A month into his first season as Cardinals manager, Solly Hemus behaved in a way that damaged his reputation and diminished his stature among some players.

Disgusted when the Cardinals lost 15 of their first 20 games in 1959, Hemus resorted to insults and intimidation in an effort to rattle the opposition and motivate his team.

Using racist remarks, Hemus lost respect and created resentment.

Two years later, he was fired.

Managing up

Hemus, an infielder, played for the Cardinals from 1949 until he was traded to the Phillies in May 1956. Skilled at reaching base, Hemus scored 105 runs in 1952 and 110 in 1953.

After he was traded, Hemus, a prolific letter writer, wrote to Cardinals owner Gussie Busch, expressing gratitude for his playing career in St. Louis and indicating a desire to return to the organization.

Busch and Hemus continued to correspond. When the Cardinals fired Fred Hutchinson in September 1958, Hemus was Busch’s choice _ not general manager Bing Devine’s _ to become player-manager.

The 1959 Cardinals started sluggishly. After losing the first game of a doubleheader to the Pirates May 3 at Pittsburgh, the Cardinals were 5-15. The Pirates won in the 10th when a fly ball by Bill Mazeroski was misjudged by right fielder Gino Cimoli and sailed over his head for a RBI-single.

An instigator

Determined to shake the Cardinals from their slumber, Hemus put himself into the starting lineup at second base for Game 2.

In the first inning, Hemus faced Bennie Daniels, making his first start of the season for the Pirates.

A pitch from Daniels to Hemus “nicked him on the right pants leg,” according to the Pittsburgh Press.

“Hemus just stuck his leg out to be hit on purpose as usual,” Pirates manager Danny Murtaugh told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

Daniels’ pitch “wasn’t a brushback pitch, but Hemus tried to make a federal case out of it,” said Pittsburgh writer Les Biederman.

As Hemus went to first base, he “tossed a few choice phrases in Daniels’ direction,” the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reported.

In his book “The Long Season,” Cardinals reliever Jim Brosnan said, “(Hemus) yelled at Daniels, ‘You black bastard.’ ”

Cardinals pitcher Bob Gibson, in his book “Stranger to the Game,” said, “I can understand that Hemus wanted to light a fire under us, but that was no excuse for calling Daniels a black bastard.”

As Daniels and Hemus exchanged words, Pirates first baseman Dick Stuart “blocked Solly’s path in case he might be thinking of pursuing Daniels,” the Post-Dispatch reported.

Players poured onto the field, but there was no fighting.

In his book, “Uppity,” Cardinals first baseman Bill White said, “After that, Daniels always called Hemus ‘Little Faubus,’ a reference to Arkansas governor Orval Faubus, who tried to block school desegregation in Little Rock in 1957.”

Tempers flare

In the third inning, Hemus blooped a run-scoring double to left against Daniels, giving the Cardinals a 2-0 lead.

When Hemus batted again in the sixth, Daniels’ first pitch “just missed” Hemus’ chin, according to the Post-Dispatch.

“I didn’t think that pitch was too close,” Daniels told the Post-Gazette. “I guess Hemus did.”

On the next delivery, Hemus moved up in the batter’s box and “threw his bat toward Daniels before the pitch reached the plate,” the Pittsburgh Press said.

“What was I supposed to do, turn the other cheek?” Hemus told the Post-Dispatch. “The bat slipped out of my hand just like the ball slipped out of Daniels’ hand.”

The bat landed several feet from Daniels. Players again rushed onto the field and scuffles ensued.

Murtaugh “got a short punch at Hemus during the fighting and drew a little blood,” according to the Pittsburgh Press.

Hemus, who told The Sporting News he “was clipped a few times,” grappled with Pirates coach Len Levy.

“I told Solly it was silly to be throwing a bat because somebody could be killed,” Levy said. “Hemus challenged me, so I had to protect myself.”

Fans booed and threw beer cans onto the field.

After order was restored, play resumed with no ejections. “They didn’t have anything to throw me out for,” Hemus said.

Daniels retired Hemus on a groundout to short. After the Cardinals completed their half of the inning, Hemus removed himself from the game.

(Because of a curfew, the game was suspended in the seventh and resumed on the Cardinals’ next trip to Pittsburgh in June. The Cardinals won, 3-1.) Boxscore

Bad example

Noting that Hemus claimed he had tried to put a spark into the Cardinals, Brosnan said, “If that truly was his intention, he did it as awkwardly as he could. All he proved to me was that little men _ or boys _ shouldn’t play with sparks, as well as with matches.”

Wrote the Post-Gazette: “Hemus’ behavior seemed something less than expected from a major league manager.”

The Pittsburgh Press concluded Hemus “went to great lengths to set what turned out to be a bad example.”

After the second game was suspended, Hemus held a closed-door meeting with his team.

During the session, Gibson said, “Hemus referred to Daniels as a nigger … It was hard to believe our manager could be so thickheaded and it was even harder to play for a guy who unapologetically regarded black players as niggers.”

In his book “The Way It Is,” Cardinals outfielder Curt Flood said Hemus told the team, “I want you to be the first to know what I said to Daniels. I called him a black son of a bitch.”

Flood said he and teammates “sat with our jaws open, eyeing each other” as Hemus spoke.

“We had been wondering how the manager really felt about us,” Flood said. “Now we knew. Black sons of bitches.”

Said Gibson: “Hemus’ treatment of black players was the result of one of the following: Either he disliked us deeply or he genuinely believed that the way to motivate us was with insults.”

White said of Hemus, “I never had a problem with him, but some of the other players, especially Curt Flood and Bob Gibson, absolutely despised him, partly because he didn’t play them as much as they would have liked but also because they thought he was a racist.”

In 1992, Gibson recalled, Hemus approached him at a Cardinals reunion and said he wasn’t a racist. Gibson reminded Hemus of the incident with Daniels. According to Gibson, Hemus defended himself as “a master motivator doing what he could to fire up the ball club.”

Said Gibson: “My response was ‘Bullshit.’ ”

In his book “October 1964,” author David Halberstam said Hemus “was saddened that years later Gibson and Flood still thought of him as a racist. He accepted the blame for what had happened. The world had been changing, but he had not, he later decided.”